


Fluffy Ten One-Shots

by summerartist



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Little Mermaid Fusion, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Gen, Heat Stroke, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Plants, Reluctant Cuddles, arachnids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24699802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerartist/pseuds/summerartist
Summary: This is a collection of fluff and hurt/comfort that’s essentially all Ten related.Chapter 10: MenagerieDonna gets to see what the Doctor thinks of the animal kingdom. (This is the last installment)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 39





	1. Don't Let the Bed Bugs...

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: 
> 
> The Doctor joins Donna and Wilf for their annual camping trip. The tired Doctor decides that he is not going to rest, which becomes a point of contention. -Ten and Wilf fluff-

Arachnophobia warning and I'm borrowing Eleven's semi-normal (though still exceptional) reading pace for Ten  
  
  


The tan and burgundy tent had a spacious interior. It was made from slightly squeaky material, but it was comfortable enough to suit the needs of its two occupants. The Doctor was reading a book while his tent mate kept their eyes tight shut.

The Doctor turned the next page and gave a little start as a harvestman scurried over the parchment. It crept over his hand briefly before it wandered in Wilf’s direction. The Doctor considered scooping up the long-limbed intruder, but immediately dismissed the idea. Wilf probably wouldn’t mind the arachnid’s presence. Besides, from what Donna said, her Grandfather didn’t always sleep peacefully in a tent. It was best to let him get some shut eye before the Doctor rebuilt their nightly bonfire.

The Doctor gave a sniff and bookmarked the next page. It was a shame as he was just getting to the good parts.

The Doctor quietly crept out of the tent and zipped Wilf in behind him. He began his ritual of retrieving firewood and gathering it in the center of their camp. Donna would be back shortly with a couple of purchases to complete their meal. The Doctor set the woodpile ablaze. He was just nudging more kindling in when Wilfred poked his head out of the tent.

The elderly human smiled at the Doctor’s efforts with the bonfire. “Ah, good. Maybe that’ll keep the spiders away. One woke me up crawling over me.”

The Doctor frowned. “Sorry, Wilf. I thought capturing it would have woken you.”

“Ah, it’s fine.” Wilf waved away his concern. “Donna back yet?”

The Doctor shook his head. He poked at the woodpile as a yellow tongue of flame leaped up. Wilf took a seat on a nearby log, rubbing his hands together to presumably reawaken his circulation.

“It’s going to be cold tonight. Smart she’s bringing us items for hot beverages,” Wilf remarked. “Are you reading again or will you be sleeping?”

“Probably reading,” the Doctor said. “I’ll keep a small fire going to keep you two comfortable.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Wilf told him gently. “Donna has her electric blanket and as for me, I have plenty of padding to keep me warm.”

The Doctor slowly nodded. He was still planning to keep the fire burning and read through his old collection of books again, try to pass the time and keep watch over the humans. This camping trip had been for Donna and her Grandfather, after all.

“You look tired, son. Why don’t you try to get some sleep tonight?”

The casual and intimate address caused the Doctor’s mental gears to grind to a halt briefly before he could answer. “I’ll be fine.”

Before Wilf could continue to persuade him, the sound of crunching gravel announced the return of Donna in the car. The two men walked over to go help her with the extra parcels.

“They didn’t have the tea you wanted,” Donna told the Doctor as she got out. “So I got chamomile and blackberry.”

She thrust the small boxes into the Doctor’s hands. He eyed the boxes of tea bags, realizing that there must not have been much selection. He considered hiking back to the TARDIS to retrieve his loose leaf blends, but he supposed he could tolerate the substitutes for the next night.

“So, you two get up to mischief while I was away?” Donna asked.

“You bet. I had a kip and the Doctor read.” Wilf picked up the fresh loaf of bread.

“What, again?”

When the Doctor nodded, Donna sighed. “I’m starting to think you’re going into a sulk. You never read this much.”

They quibbled about the Doctor’s habits for a few more minutes, during which the Doctor insisted that he was fine and definitely not brooding. The Doctor managed to steer their conversation to something else and they began to prepare dinner. The meal was a simple affair of fire toasted sandwiches, apparently a time-honed tradition from Wilf’s side of the family. They had brought with them pie irons to warm the bread and butter with, along with the fillings of their choice.

The (admittedly not healthy) food was hearty and filling. Everyone gave a full groan as they let the pie irons cool and they wound down. Donna went into her tent briefly to get dressed into something more comfortable and warm. The Doctor helped clean up and gathered more wood for their camp. Wilf got chatting about space and the Doctor quickly became distracted by talking to him.

Donna listened for a while as the sun sank down and the stars peeked out of the inky curtain. They made every effort to include her in the conversation, but she also appeared to enjoy hearing them natter on like old friends.

They wished Donna goodnight as she crawled into her white and lavender tent. Wilf stayed up with the Doctor and they had tea. Wilf lamented not purchasing a dash of something stronger, but accepted the warm beverage and the company. Wilf started to nod off where he sat.

“Why don’t you turn in, Wilf? It’s supposed to rain tonight and become colder.”

“Ah, it’s always drizzling anyway,” Wilf pointed out. “How about I turn in if you do?”

The Doctor frowned at him. That’s not how things were supposed to work.

“Human beings need much more sleep than I do. I don’t want you to make yourself ill by staying up,” the Doctor stated.

“Yeah, well, likewise,” Wilf said obstinately.

The sudden cheek took the alien flat aback and his eyes widened as he stared at Donna’s Grandfather. Wilf gave an apologetic smile but the determined creases in his face remained.

“Just let the fire peter out. We can sleep under the stars and go in when it rains,” Wilf suggested. “I’m not much for sleeping in a tent either.”

The Doctor surmised that it was Wilf’s war experience talking. The Doctor decided that he would humor Wilf for a while if that’s what it took to make the human rest. He could slip away sometime during the night under the pretense of fetching something or answering a call of nature.

They dragged their sleeping gear outside as they let the fire die down. The Doctor took care of the dishes and delayed as long as he could before he would have to bed down. When he returned to the clearing, he was a little dismayed to discover that Wilf had scooted his sleeping bag closer to the Doctor’s blankets.

Wilf had obviously not been fooled by how easily he had accepted his offer. The Doctor settled down with a huff. It would be a long night of pretending to sleep. It probably should have occurred to him that he was behaving childishly, but his sleep deprived brain remained as stubborn as ever. He was not tired enough to warrant this fussing. He could stay up many more hours before it became necessary to slumber. He could afford to push his limits.

Wilf shivered. The Doctor quickly divested himself of his outermost blanket and started to drape it over the elderly human. Maybe he could still convince Wilf to accept that fire-

“Nevermind that.” Wilf batted half-heartedly at the blanket. “Just scoot this way and we’ll form a barricade against the breeze.”

There was actually a strong draft coming in from the west. The Doctor moved closer to Wilf so that he was shielding him partially. Wilf casually wriggled a bit closer. The pair settled back, an inch or so away from touching shoulders. The Doctor shut his eyes…

* * *

When next the Doctor woke, he had his head half buried under a warm solid weight. He had wedged himself there like an animal attempting to burrow. He surmised by the steady breathing beside him that he must have gotten closer to Wilf during the night. Then, with a pang, he realized that he was still in a sleep-dazed stupor. His time sense told him that it had been over seven hours. He shuddered. Wilf arranged the blankets more snugly over him.

Shortly thereafter, Wilf got up and promised to be right back. He transferred his blankets over to the Doctor. The Doctor opened his eyes as he was leaving, blinking at the sun rays starting to alight on the forest floor. A creature came into view. The harvestman seemed to be regarding the groggy Doctor judgmentally. The not-quite-a-morning Time Lord responded in kind.

“Don’t give me that look. You’re not even a proper spider. Only two eyes and no venom or silk glands.”

The little scavenger seemed unimpressed. The Doctor was just considering disparaging it further when he heard Donna get up. She began stirring up the fire and putting in the leftover wood scraps. The Doctor decided to wake up fully and help. He sat up and extended his limbs, joints cracking. There were still phantom points of heat on one side of his body from where he had attempted to snuggle with Wilf.

The Doctor gave a sleepy hum and rubbed at the back of his neck. He saw Donna smile at him from across the camp. He instinctively smiled back and went to go join her. Wilf returned shortly thereafter.

The End.


	2. Oi, Watch It, Merman!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna’s wedding goes awry. A certain Merperson comes to her rescue.

* * *

One minute Donna was having her wedding ceremony on the boat, in the next she was underwater. Air bubbles escaped from her mouth as she thrashed around. She struggled to determine which way was up in the murky depths. She felt something grab her and she lashed out.

_What was that for?_ A startled voice spoke in her head.

The voice didn’t wait for her to answer. Donna’s waist was seized by very human feeling hands and she was tugged in one direction. Gradually, the water around her began to grow lighter. She saw scales and human skin… Donna gasped, drawing water into her airways. The voice in her head went _No no no no!_

Just when she thought she might lose consciousness, they broke the surface. Donna vomited up water. She gasped and heaved as something or someone patted her back. She realized that she was mashed up against a narrow but muscular torso. She opened her eyes to see a freckled shoulder and tufts of brown hair. Donna quickly drew back, struggling to keep herself afloat in the heavy bridal gown. Her veil and bouquet were already gone, likely lost somewhere deep under the waves.

“Who are you? Where am I?”

She decided that the scales must have been a figment of her imagination. It was a shirtless stranger that had drawn her to the surface.

“Where the hell am I?”

* * *

It was funny to think that it had been a couple of years ago now since Donna’s world had been turned upside down. It turned out that Merpeople were real. They were descended from an alien race called the Time Lords, and the Merpeople had long since vanished...save one.

After the disastrous failed marriage, the Merman looked after the waterlogged bride. He showed her a hologram of the beginning of the Earth and the oceans. He had called himself the Doctor. He could speak her language and he appeared very much like a human from the waist up. His human-esque hair even had the habit of sticking straight up once it dried. His lower half was made up of vivid blue scales and a long tail.

He was goofy and adventurous, constantly traveling to different watery worlds. He showed her new wonders and taught her how to swim to the best of her human ability. He had advanced alien technology that helped her breathe underwater, helped them travel, and saved worlds from extreme peril.

Sometimes he would beach himself for her. They would find a nice empty sand bar or a hidden inlet so that they could have a chat and a few hours together on her turf.

The Doctor was blinking lazily as he finished off a cup of warm tea. He did not usually enjoy something too hot, but tea was apparently an exception.

“I had this weird dream about you,” Donna began.

“Oh?” The corner of his mouth tilted up in a smirk.

“Stop that. Well, I suppose it was fairly normal by dream standards. You couldn’t talk because someone stole your voice-”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” he said blandly.

“Actually, it was very peaceful. Though I had to help you arrange a few dates with some humans because you were dead set on getting married.”

“I think you’re projecting,” he remarked, setting his tea cup back down on the saucer in a way that was entirely too proper for a fish person.

“Oi! Stop it, you. Anyway, you couldn’t talk so I had to translate. I don’t remember much else except that you took to singing sometimes once you got your voice back.”

“Would you like me to sing for you?” He offered. “I can play a few instruments. The Time Lords used to have natural musical talent. I should be able to sing.”

“The last thing we need is you drawing attention to yourself. Who knows, maybe the legends really are true and you can hypnotize people with your voice and drown them.”

“Donna,” he whined, looking stroppy. He dropped his posh pretense so that he could flip over onto his back. He remained there for a few minutes as if he was actually upset.

“Oh, come on, you know that I don’t actually believe that,” Donna pointed out.

“Well, maybe you should,” he replied. “People...get lost around me.”

“And they get rescued too,” she added, scooting closer. She nudged his neck gently with her knees. He got the message and lifted up his shoulders so that she could pillow his head onto her lap. She adjusted him in a resting position and began playing with his spiky hair. “I remember there was a bride who would have drowned on her wedding day if you and the TARDIS hadn’t been there.”

“True, I guess,” he admitted. “Though without us you wouldn’t have been in danger of drowning in the first place.”

Donna sighed, gently scratching his scalp near his ears. He leaned into the touch.

“But my life wouldn’t have been the same. All that traveling and swimming...visiting new worlds...” She trailed off thoughtfully. “Life is funny sometimes. It has a way of giving you exactly the thing you need, even if it hurts along the way.”

She seemed to have found the sweet spot just above his gills and he hummed as she applied pressure there. She firmed her touch. He threw his head back, exposing his throat as he trilled softly. The reaction seemed to catch both of them off guard and their eyes widened as their gazes met. The Doctor flushed a dusky alien orange.

“Mm. Ticklish,” he decided. “Definitely not enjoying that. Definitely.” He didn’t sound convinced.

Donna would have been upset with him if he hadn’t looked as surprised as she was. He was tensed in a way that suggested he was ready to leap back into the ocean.

“Okay.” Donna switched back to scratching at his scalp. “Okay. You’re weird sometimes.”

The Doctor was silent for a full minute before he began to chuckle. “Thank you.”

The waves continued to crash against the shore and Donna continued playing with his hair. He added, “Thank you, Donna Noble.”

The End.


	3. Of Trust and Bicycles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martha has a mishap and strikes a deal with the Doctor.

* * *

  
“Ah! Good, you’re up,” the Doctor said briskly as Martha strode into the control room. “Feeling up to stretching your legs?” The Doctor paused to ring a chime.

“Why have- Why are there bicycles in here?” Martha asked.

The Doctor didn’t miss how Martha’s eyes raked over the machines with interest. She reached out to touch a tire and squeezed it, checking the air pressure.

“They’re all pumped up, oiled, and ready to go,” the Doctor assured her. “We’re going to a planet where the only mode of transportation is non-motorized. I figured it was an upgrade from traveling on foot.”

Martha grinned and grasped the handlebars of the deep red one. She seemed to become aware that the Doctor was staring at her.

“It’s been a while,” Martha admitted. “My brother used to like cycling more, but this looks just like my old one.” She ran her hand over the smooth finish appreciatively.

“Well, it’s all yours. The TARDIS has a decent sized garage on board. So, feel up to visiting the planet of the wheels?” He asked playfully.

Martha fixed him with a chiding look. “It’s not called The Planet of the Wheels.”

“No,” he smiled and pulled down a heavy lever near the console. “But close enough. Allons-y!”

* * *

There were fields of short turquoise plants and large sweeping roads that wound around every natural landmark. The native cultures were very family oriented. Often times people traveled in clusters. The picturesque scenery and the rustic technology created an atmosphere of whimsy that was contagious, especially to the Doctor.

“Race you over the next hill!” The Doctor called.

“Oh, you are on!” Martha was just starting to get her cycling legs back properly.

Though she had a low-grade headache, the excitement of being on a bike again was rejuvenating. She sped up and attempted to give the Time Lord a run for his money. Their laughter rang out over the hills and valleys.

* * *

Sometime later, they were wrapped up in an interplanetary drama like they always were. A species from a neighboring system was dead set on obtaining the planet’s resources. They were willing to pay the political leaders handsomely in currency that could be used for intergalactic trade.

Martha and the Doctor attended the public negotiations. The Doctor was interested to see that the proceedings were conducted peacefully. In the meantime, Martha’s head was killing her.

“I think I’m going to stop back at the TARDIS,” she said, rubbing at her brow.

The Doctor gave her a startled look. “Oh! Not bored, are you? We can do something else...”

“Nah, just need a bit of rest after all of that racing. Human being, remember? No endless reserves of energy.”

The Doctor hummed noncommittally as if considering her words. Seeing as he wasn’t replying, she stood up.

“See you in a couple of hours.” She started walking out of the debate theater.

“Wh- Martha!” Several people turned around and shushed him in their odd chattering voices.

Martha made her way out to their bikes and headed out. She went at a slower pace this time, mindful of her developing headache. She remembered the way. The TARDIS wasn’t too far from the debates and she had her key to get back in.

The long and winding roads led her past the many hills and ravines full of flora and fauna. It would have been fascinating if Martha wasn’t concentrating on keeping her bike on the road.

She was halfway there when her condition had consequences on her focus. Her bike got too close to the edge of the paving and then she was flying. Her body flipped off of her bicycle. She slammed into an old rotting pillar of wood. The air was knocked out of her lungs. Her bicycle turned over in the air and became tangled in some underbrush. She lay there, gasping and getting her breath back down the steep drop. It was good that the Doctor hadn’t seen her wipe out like that.

“Ooh,” she groaned, sitting up.

She had no head injuries and only a sore shoulder and back. She had been lucky. Even the bicycle remained unscathed.

Martha slowly climbed out of the ravine. She was still headache-y, humiliated, and sore, but she was almost to the TARDIS. There she could get some medicine and heal her bruises. The Doctor would just have to cope on his own at the negotiations for a couple of hours.

* * *

When the TARDIS came into view, Martha could have embraced it. She got off of her bicycle and walked it inside. She promptly sat down.

“I see you took the long way ‘round,” the Doctor’s voice said triumphantly.

Martha gave a start. Of course he would try to beat her back to the TARDIS. She quickly seized the railing and heaved herself to her feet.

“You were taking so long I was starting to think you got lost.” He was grinning like a Cheshire cat, waiting for her to acknowledge his victory. His smile started to falter as he rounded the console. “Martha?” He approached her and pushed her bicycle back out of the way.

“Oi-”

Martha’s objections quieted as the Doctor closed in. His fingertips sought out her pulse and he frowned, feeling her forehead next. “You’re a little warm.”

“’Course I am. I’m a human.”

The Doctor seemed to ignore her statement in favor of feeling the cervical lymph nodes in her neck. His hum was off-key.

“Fever and-” He plucked something out of her hair. It was a turquoise leaf. He stared at her.

“I fell off of the bike, but all I have are some bruises.” The reassurance only made his lips tighten. “Look, I’m fine. I just came back for some paracetamol or whatever the TARDIS has.”

“Headache? Right, I think it’s to the Medical Bay with you,” he said briskly. “You know, you could have just told me you weren’t feeling well. I would have escorted you back here and prevented a fall.”

It sounded like a perfectly logical alternative, but she remembered her determination to look after herself. The Doctor reached out to place a hand very gently on her back.

“Let’s take care of this,” he said soothingly.

She knew this routine; reassure the patient that they were getting treatment and take the weight of responsibility off of their shoulders. A relaxed patient was better than an anxious one.

“Physician heal thyself,” Martha muttered.

“You never let me choose that option,” he reminded her. He had dropped his Doctor persona for a moment.

Martha grudgingly conceded that he had a point. Maybe this adventure had taught her to practice what she preached in matters of pride.

“All right, I’ll be more open with you if you try to be more open with me,” Martha proposed.

The TARDIS gave an approving sounding warble. The Doctor raised an eyebrow. It was a perfectly logical deal to Martha. Neither of them liked to admit when they needed help.

“Look, you trust me, right? This is my way of trusting you,” Martha stated. “We just try to tell each other if we start feeling like rubbish from now on.”

He gazed at her with an indecipherable emotion in his eyes and very slowly gave a nod. Martha smiled, triumphant this time.

“Come on, we’ll catch the tail end of the debates once we get you feeling better.” He ushered her into the TARDIS hallways past their bicycles.

The TARDIS gave a contented sigh as the Doctor took care of his Companion and their ties strengthened. The types of affectionate feelings created by their touches and bonding made her hum. The harmonious atmosphere greatly benefited her psyche.

The cycling had been a good idea. She was well pleased that she had used her peek into Martha’s memories to create an outing. Facilitating togetherness was as much of a part of her programming as it was for theirs.

Fin.


	4. Sunset Dining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten has some sage advice to offer to Nine. First, he wants to show him a little hospitality.

* * *

  
  
“I still say this is courtin’ disaster,” the Doctor in leather said.

He had his hands shoved deep in his pockets as they climbed up the slope to the overlook. The wind was constantly tugging at their clothing. The Doctor in pinstripes wore a carefree smile as he carried a hamper under his arm.

“Rose will be wondering where I’ve gone off to,” the younger Doctor remarked.

The hamper rattled as the older Doctor huffed and puffed a little, like he was imitating a human. His smile had faltered slightly.

“I can carry that,” the predecessor offered, attempting to seize the heavy container.

The Doctor clutched the hamper protectively, moving it towards his other side and out of reach. “We’re almost to the top.”

They had reached the stone stairwell. The sky was painted with oranges, pinks, reds, and various blues.

“Oh, lovely sunset,” the Doctor in pinstripes said appreciatively. “See, aren’t you glad that you came?”

The Doctor in leather shuffled his feet and grumbled. The other Doctor twittered at him. He stooped over and set his heavy burden down on the grass. His predecessor watched him with interest as he unfastened the hamper. The lid was thrown open and the Doctor began arranging the contents across the ground. First there was the blanket, then the thermos cups with coffee, and then the containers of food. The edibles were some of the younger Doctor’s favorites.

“Just what are you doing?” The younger Doctor barked.

“What does it look like?” The Doctor said pleasantly, having expected this reaction. “Are you going to have a seat and join me or just stand there?”

“I thought you had something important to tell me, not that you were going to play tea party.”

“The sunset didn’t give it away?” The Doctor in pinstripes offered him a thermos. “And it’s coffee. Black.”

The younger Doctor grasped the thermos and inhaled the scent.

“Or close enough to coffee,” the Doctor admitted. “From a bean, well, technically not a bean if you factor in-”

“What are we risking a paradox for? Is this your way of saying ‘thank you?’” The younger Doctor interrupted him.

“Perhaps,” the Doctor said, opening the food containers. “Sit down. I know you haven’t forgotten etiquette.”

The leather clad Doctor sat down with a huff, but drank from the thermos as the other Doctor started loading up the plates. He seemed to accurately guess the portion sizes for his predecessor. As he handed over the plate, their cold hands touched briefly.

“This is real nice, real quiet, but I don’t have time for it. I should be getting back to Rose.” His predecessor made to put down his thermos.

“I have something to say to you,” the Doctor said. “But I won’t unless you partake of the meal.”

“Why?”

The older Doctor gave him an expectant look. The younger Doctor sighed and had a bite of the syrupy green and maroon salad with the textured sauce. His eyes widened slightly.

“Good, this.”

The Doctor smiled and took a sip of his coffee, a picture of the contented host. “I’d give you the recipe, but that would be spoiling something for you.”

“Though I’ll remember ingesting this, and if you’re going to be editing my memories, I’d rather you refrain from adding copious amounts to cover up my sensory recollections,” the younger Doctor said logically.

“You don’t need to worry about that,” the Doctor told him. “Come on, live a little.”

The Doctor had already skipped ahead to dessert. He lay down on his side, nibbling on a biscuit. The younger Doctor still hesitated.

“I know you’re hungry. I’ve been you, remember? Fuel tank’s gotten low, you’ll have to refill it. Adding some extra spring to your step won’t change the future.”

The younger Doctor finally dug in, swayed by the knowledge of the other. He had always been clever and admittedly he was hungry. The older Doctor tried to pass off looking around at the view casually and intermittently snacking, but the smugness was practically oozing off of him.

“So, besides feeding me up what were your other plans?” The younger Doctor asked between bites.

“Can’t you savor the moment a little? Pretend I’m not even here, if that helps.”

“Why would I want to do that?” The leather clad Doctor queried.

“Oh, no reason. Maybe that’s why I invited you, to tell you to enjoy the food and watch the sunset.”

“Didn’t know I’d become barmy in my old age,” the younger Doctor pointed out lightly. “I’ve saved my own skin before. You didn’t need to provide me with a pit stop. I would have taken one myself tomorrow.”

“Mm. Once you paused with your mental self flagellation long enough to get your appetite back,” the Doctor said bluntly.

The younger Doctor fixed him with a sharp stare.

“I’ve gotten better about that, you know? I’ve always been good about satisfying my basic needs, but when I actually properly care, my capabilities become limitless.”

“Good on you,” the younger Doctor said.

The Doctor made a noise, but before he could speak, his predecessor was talking.

“As much as I notice it, I don’t need someone to hold my hand,” the younger Doctor pointed out. “I’ve been taking care of myself long before some future regeneration of me decided to meddle.”

The Doctor’s brow furrowed to the point where he looked almost pained. “I’m not- Look, you’ve always saved others, but why?”

“You know why,” his predecessor said flatly.

“Yes.” The pinstriped Doctor made a frustrated noise. “But beyond that, why save those lives beyond it being the right thing to do? Why do they exist?” The Doctor scooted closer. “I need you to see beyond your atonement now.”

The Doctor had the audacity to place a hand on his predecessor’s knee. “Rose has helped you remember why you’re here.” He rubbed a gentle circle with his hand. “If you’re not going to see the broader picture, then do it for her. Remind yourself why we exist: Soak in the sunlight, let your mind wander, savor the food, the people, the time. Just relish in how much time you have.” A slow smile crept over the Doctor’s features. It didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m living proof that it won’t last forever.”

The younger Doctor gave him a ponderous look, seeing something in him. “Take your own advice.”

The pinstriped Doctor’s smile turned sour. “Oh I have, and I will until the last moment. It all starts with you though. That’s why I’m here. I won’t be editing your memories. You’ll be taking this into your foreseeable future, and as for this set up-”

He gestured towards the picnic and the view. “I wanted to make certain that it was a pleasant memory.”

The sun had sank lower and the stars were just starting to peep out against the dark backdrop. The Doctor began packing away their picnic. The leather clad Doctor still seemed too preoccupied to do anything besides snagging a biscuit for himself. He snapped off a piece.

“Oh, that’s-” His expression was caught between intrigue and puzzlement.

“Ah, those were for me,” the pinstriped Doctor remarked. “You’ll get used to them. Curbs the sweet tooth. The key ingredients are ginger and something that’s hard to get ahold of.” He hefted up his hamper with visible ease. “Walk with me?”

They started to climb back down the hill, descending towards the TARDIS in the encroaching dark.

“You’re lucky I’m such a cheap date,” the younger Doctor remarked.

“You wouldn’t have settled for anything else,” the Doctor told him. “Right, that’s my transport.”

He stopped just outside of the TARDIS.

“That’s seriously all you wanted to say to me? Enjoy life and learn to like the biscuits?” The younger Doctor prompted him.

“Don’t need more than that, do you?”

“Nah,” the Doctor in leather said. “You know that I don’t. Good luck.”

“Likewise.”

The End.


	5. 42 Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten collapses after the events of 42. It turns out that nearly being fried by a sentient sun is detrimental. Martha helps him through it.

* * *

The Doctor asked Martha if she would like to go ice skating on the mineral lakes of kur-ha. To be honest, some nippy weather had sounded pleasant and she had agreed readily enough. However, she quickly became distracted by a phone call to her mother.

The Doctor felt the TARDIS poke curiously at his sense of consciousness, asking to meld with him more fully. He rebuffed her. The aftereffects of being controlled by the living sun were not something he wanted to share through their symbiosis. The TARDIS gave a quiet whir. He stroked her control panels reassuringly.

Once Martha had completed her call, she had bounced up and down on her heels a couple of times. She had adopted a far-away look.

“Best go get your skates,” he reminded Martha.

“Better go change too.” Martha laughed lightly, plucking at her tank top.

She seemed to be about to say something else, but her eyes flickered in another direction as she seemed to change her mind. She walked through the doors that led to the TARDIS living quarters. As the doors swung shut, the Doctor slumped over the controls. He tilted his head down, encouraging the blood flow towards his brain. The TARDIS tapped into their connection at the exact moment to see his vision start to fade at the edges. He staggered back and fell onto the jump seat.

The TARDIS cupped the ragged edges of his worn mind, finding the damage there. He felt her start to play medic to the raw areas. It quickly became too much stimulation and he evicted her. The TARDIS obediently left. He could still sense her watching though.

He concentrated on his more immediate concern: his wilting body. He had to lean down further to stay conscious. He didn’t want to scare Martha by going into a healing coma right now. He bent down past his knees and kept sliding. His kneecaps struck the grating and he overbalanced. He attempted to rise, but his energy reserves came up empty. He had fallen in an awkward position with his knee up and his arms trapped beneath his torso. He was utterly defenseless.

“Doctor?”

The Doctor surfaced enough to hear Martha call for him. The Doctor lay there, immobile and silent.

“Doctor!”

He felt her place a hand on his side and call to him again. He groaned quietly. He was vaguely aware that he must look ridiculous sprawled out like this.

“Why are you on the floor? Did you pass out?” Martha took his pulse and nudged at his back.

Martha tried to coax him into moving and standing up. He attempted to find the slightest spark of energy, but to no avail.

“I’m going to get some things to cool you down, alright?” Martha stood and walked away.

Was he overheated? He didn’t feel hot. He remembered burning and quickly freezing and thawing in the stasis chamber. He had not been adequately chilled after the post-hydrogen possession, so it was entirely possible. He could have sighed with relief when Martha returned with what felt like a cold and wet flannel. She tucked it around his neck.

“Can you get up, Doctor? That doesn’t look comfortable.”

Understatement of the century, he thought. He attempted to prop himself up on his arms, but only managed to turn slightly. The towel fell onto the ground with a soggy plop.

“Come on.”

Martha seized him under the armpits and managed to sit him up. His body listed sideways. He grabbed onto her weakly as she somehow maneuvered him onto the jumpseat.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Martha soothed.

With a start, he realized that a bead of moisture had trickled down the side of his face. She squeezed his hands before continuing to tend to him. Martha untied his shoelaces and shucked off his converse and socks. She started tucking multiple objects beneath his body. He realized hazily that they were cooling packs.

“Just relax. The temperature’s dropping in here, I think.” She undid his tie and collar.

The TARDIS cooed. Martha turned to retrieve something from the ground. She held up a bottle of water. The Doctor knew what she was going to ask and he felt himself swallow. He couldn’t even lift his head, nevermind prop his upper half upright. He stared at the water.

“I can help you drink.”

She slipped her hand beneath his head. She held the bottle to his lips and slowly tipped the contents in. The Doctor took a few sips. The overflow trickled out of his mouth and onto his shirt. Martha ceased and gently settled him back down.

“Just rest for a bit,” she told him.

Martha capped the bottle and held it out for him to take. His brow furrowed as he grasped feebly at the neck of the container. Seeing him flounder, she changed tactics.

“This should help.” She slipped it snug between the jumpseat and his waist.

The hem of his shirt had ridden up so that the icy bottle made contact with his bare skin. He inhaled sharply. After confirming that he was merely reacting to the temperature change, she retreated. He thought for a moment that she was going to leave the control room, but she lingered. She checked their coordinates on the TARDIS screens. Martha had no doubt determined that they had not yet reached Kur-ha. They were still gliding along the safe haven of the Time Vortex.

The Doctor heard the TARDIS hum to him. She seemed to understand that his mind was still too brittle to host another sentience. He silently promised her her usual perch in his mental shrine, but she just rumbled patiently. The _I’ll still be here when you’re ready,_ was heavily implied. The Doctor let his eyes fall shut and he drifted. Try as he might, he couldn’t sleep. The recent adrenaline kept him alert. He ping ponged in and out of full awareness. Martha mostly let him be, but lingered in the control room for long stretches of time.

They ended up staying in the Time Vortex for over 24 Earth hours. The Time Lord got up to take care of basic functions, but nothing else. Martha brought him beverages that were high in electrolytes and occasionally asked how he was. Both Martha and the TARDIS waited, never pushing.

At last, the Doctor allowed the TARDIS to meld with his consciousness properly. She did her own version of poking around to check his status. The TARDIS decided that he was recuperating well enough so that he was cleared for travel. She was relying on Martha for continued supervision though.

“Well, get your skates ready. What are we waiting around for?” The Doctor said energetically.

He set his bare feet on the ground and glanced down at them, realizing that he had to replace his own footwear.

“You sure you’re up for another trip?” Martha asked.

“’Course I am! Time Lord bodies can withstand the most brutal of elements and bounce right back. Restart button included.”

Both Martha and the TARDIS reminded him of what had just occurred. The TARDIS didn’t let him get away with his “restart button” comment.

“All right! All right, duly noted. Now, can we press on?”

The Doctor ended up lacing up bright red skates that looked suspiciously like converse with more heel support. The Doctor and Martha wobbled across the grating until they reached the threshold. They had parked directly on the thick ice in order to get better access. The Doctor offered Martha a chivalrous arm and smiled when she beamed. Though the shadow of her own close encounter lingered in her eyes, he saw a brightness start to peek through. It was a familiar look.

There were no global catastrophes, skirmishes, or plague, only the breeze, ice, and laughter. Martha was good on skates, but some of the more fancy maneuvers were lost on her. The Doctor tried to pull her into a spin a couple of times and either got rebuked or they both ended up falling. They would proceed to help each other up and go back to square one. Besides the occasional spill, they synchronized gracefully.

Their ice skating ended prematurely in order to partake of traditional hot cocoa with a culinary twist. Martha and the Doctor would both recover with time. For now, they settled on having some fun.

The End.


	6. Garden Vandal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (“We are not getting back on the TARDIS just so we can see some giant smelly plant,” Donna said firmly.)

* * *

“You have the whole universe at your fingertips. Where did you want to go?” The Doctor asked.

He could practically see Donna’s mental gears whirring from across the TARDIS. He attempted to narrow down the choices. “We can go see The Great Plume of Agosoria, the Bajoran artisans, the paradises of Rila, the botanical gardens of Zephyranthes-”

“The botanical gardens sound like they would be nice,” Donna said thoughtfully.

“Zephyranthes?” He raised his eyebrows.

They had just gone through the ordeal on the Planet of the Ood, so traveling to somewhere warm likely appealed to her. He input the coordinates. The TARDIS helped him with the parts he got mixed around, and off they went.

* * *

Donna had expected a small patch of alien greenery. It was more like half a planet’s worth, and it was multicolored, not to mention the sheer odor of the place. When they had disembarked they were confronted by a cacophony of scents. Donna covered her face with her sleeve. She kept her breathing shallow.

The Doctor glanced over at her. “We’re right on the edge of the perfume gardens. There’s clearer air over this way.”

He led her past bushes full of flowers and stalks in all sorts of contorted formations. They walked in the direction of the more earthy and peaty scents that were strong but not overpowering. The Doctor strolled casually through what looked like groves of yellow mushrooms.

“Ah, the fungal gardens!” It wasn’t long before he was putting on his glasses and crouching down to survey the smaller fungi growing up from the moist ground.

“I thought you said your senses were dialed up to eleven. How can you stand all the smells in this place?” Donna had uncovered her nose but was regarding their surroundings warily.

“I can let myself go nose blind, just like you lot do. In the case of too much input I just tell my olfactories- oh, look at you, thriving.” The Doctor proceeded to pluck one of the clumps of fungi out of the ground and put it in his mouth.

“Look, I trust that you know what you’re doing when it comes to identifying the poisonous ones, but I’m pretty sure that you’re not supposed to eat the specimens.”

The Doctor turned towards her. Donna felt like putting her head in her hands when she noticed the soil smeared across his lower lip.

“Right.” He sniffed and wiped off his face. “Oh, look over here! This species is used for the more specialized medicines in the Delta sector-”

Donna felt like she was given her own private tour of the expansive landscape. Every once in a while, she would see alien life forms tending to the plants. She would stop and greet them, but the only time they seemed to show any interest was when the Doctor asked them about a specific fungal species. He soon got one of the specialists fired up over something called spore prints.

“All I want are a couple dozen. You’ll be removing some of those patches anyway to allow the morphtanous to expand. Oi!” The Doctor showed a hurt expression as the being made some sort of elaborate gesture with their many fingered hands.

The Doctor rejoined Donna. He was visibly pouting.

“What did you do now?” Donna asked.

“I didn’t _do_ anything! All I did was ask if I could take some spore prints for the TARDIS archives. You would think I was asking for this planet’s resources,” he whined.

“What are spore prints?”

“Oh, you’re not familiar with them? Handy way to catalog fungi. Even humans do it. You sever the fungal cap and place it over paper or transfer material and then presto, in a couple of hours you have something like this.” He reached into his pockets and dug around.

There was a rattling and clanking sound. It sounded like something broke. “Oh, that’ll be the mug. It was just two planets ago, so I should still have it. Aha!”

He held up a small sheet of paper with an elaborate ring on it. “See the pattern of the gills created by the spores?”

“It’s very nice,” Donna said agreeably. “But could we go back to a flower section? One that’s less fragrant?”

“Ah.” The Doctor shoved the print back into his pocket. “The pond side flora is this way and right next to it is an incredibly rare flower that blooms once every fifty years. It’s much bigger than Earth’s corpse flower, Amorphophallus titanum, but they bloom between two and ten Earth years, hardly any time at all. This one smells of rotten eggs to human-like olfactories.”

Donna saw him start to form an idea, his body language becoming more animated.

“It’s probably not in bloom. We could step back in the TARDIS and-”

“We are not getting back on the TARDIS just so we can see some giant smelly plant,” Donna said firmly.

The Doctor belly ached at her, insisting that it would take mere seconds. Donna led him down the pathways towards the pond section. Here the grounds were neatly organized. Fish-like creatures swam beneath the alien blossoms perched above the water. The floral life was oddly bulbous, like natural buoys.

“Look over there, they’re selling dried flowers,” Donna said excitedly. “Can we buy some?”

He shot her a bemused look.

“I wanted to bring something back for Gramps. He loves plants. He’d make the whole back yard into a hot house if Mum let him,” Donna explained.

The Doctor blinked and smiled, looking like he had reached an epiphany. “That’s why you wanted to visit the gardens.”

“Got to have another story to tell him, don’t I? As long as bringing back a few dried plants doesn’t change the future.”

“Of course.” The Doctor fished around in his expansive pockets some more. “Jelly babies, uh, and a compartmental neutralizer. Here, this might work.”

He dug out a small round ball with finely carved symbols and gave it to the vendor. The alien overseeing the flower station took it in their large paw. They tucked the ball away into their table stand and held up a single digit.

“Ah, that only pays for one. Planet wide inflation, unfortunately,” he told her.

“That’s all right.” She was just glad that she could bring back a souvenir. She wasn’t about to go picking anything illegally. “What do you think about this one? Not toxic or anything, is it?”

“Ah, perfectly safe for humans, but it’s a common specimen. Here’s the Diagnoslin plant, very rare and very valuable on most worlds in the outlying territories.” He stopped trying to persuade her when she seized her first choice and thanked the alien at the booth.

“You put it in your mane,” the alien told her.

“My what?”

“Your orange mane,” the alien clarified, miming to her to put it in her hair.

“Oh! Thanks.” She stuck the honey yellow flower with the intricate fronds behind her ear.

The alien slowly clapped their paws together and Donna flushed. She looked at the Doctor, about to ask if the alien was mocking her. The Doctor noticed her glance.

“He’s letting you know you look beautiful.”

“Stop,” she chided him.

“I’m serious! See, he agrees. You look lovely. Now, can we go see more of the gardens to the west? The edible plant patches are a system wide marvel," he told her.

“As long as you don’t go eating their crop. You know people usually have to tell children to keep their hands to themselves in gardens and museums and things,” Donna pointed out.

“Exactly. Obviously adults know better,” the Doctor conceded.

Donna raised her eyebrows. “Well, I’m glad you’re starting to-”

“But they haven’t met me. Listen, you’re obviously going to be looking at the flowers for a while. I’ll meet you over there.” He began backing away slowly.

“Oh no you don’t! Who knows what you’ll get up to on your own.” Donna followed him with a determined expression.

Zephyranthes was known for its very large and quiet gardens. Today was far less quiet.

The End.


	7. Time Lord Thumbelina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After shrinking down to an inconvenient size, the Doctor is left in the care of Wilfred Mott. Meanwhile, UNIT works on reversing the process.

* * *

“Are you still thinking of running away?” Wilfred asked quietly.

The Doctor lifted the sonic and pointed at the UNIT tablet keyboard.

_No,_ was his simple answer.

“Good, or I think those alien people- UNIT, whatever they were, would be knocking our door down,” Wilf pointed out.

Though the Doctor had been brought here against his will, he was beginning to consider the perks in staying. Martha had been calling with continued updates on their progress on the analysis of the miniaturizer. He was able to offer his valuable input through communication on his tablet, and Martha saw that his instructions were followed to the letter.

The Doctor still thought that they were exaggerating about the incidents on UNIT property though. Those security guards had been far too slow to have presented any actual danger. So what if he had nearly said goodbye to his synapses on a specialized galvanizer? He knew its function now and was unlikely to repeat the mistake. It had been the straw that broke the camel’s back though, and he had been carefully but forcefully stuffed into a gravitational case for transport to Chiswick.

Since his arrival, he began to absorb life as a nearly pocket sized Time Lord. He still had agency under the Noble roof, but he found that he needed help with the simplest of tasks. Whether it was bathing, drinking, eating, or finding a bed, he had needed a human’s help. They granted him privacy of course, but these days he seldom could go anywhere without a companion.

Luckily for him, Wilf had taken to spoiling him a bit. Perhaps it was the universe’s compensation for his current circumstances. Whatever the reason, the Doctor was grateful for these little luxuries: He had been given a nest of the finest untouched silk handkerchiefs, fresh produce to gnaw on when his brain was already chewing on other problems, and even a perfectly temperate tea bath. (He had bathed in tea and various substances before, but usually one bag’s worth hadn’t saturated the water like it did now.) The TARDIS had given him a tiny suit that nearly matched his old one. She hadn’t been able to do much else, quickly realizing that the sheer vastness of her presence both physically and psychologically overwhelmed him.

But there were still quiet times like these. He would sit with Wilf out in the back garden and watch the breeze tug at the trees and the mist. The Doctor sat on top of a table over his bunched up coat. The tablet was perched an inch away, available to be manipulated by his buzzing sonic.

The Time Lord had quieted since his arrival. This was more out of choice though and that he no longer had to screech at the top of his miniaturized lungs to be heard over a base of operations. Perhaps it was also the atmosphere of Donna’s home. Sylvia was predictably noisy, but Wilf would quickly spirit him away to the peaceful outdoors. Donna would usually follow.

Today they were left on their own. Wilf had gone all contemplative. The Doctor had scooted himself closer to the elderly human’s arm, sensing a melancholy mood. When Wilf next spoke though, it hadn’t been anything like the Time Lord had been expecting.

“Do you know the story of Thumbelina, Doctor? Kid’s tale.” Wilf asked.

The Doctor wracked his brain, only associating a name with the title. Hans Christian Anderson had been a prolific writer of children’s stories, but it had been a genre the Doctor hadn’t touched since stealing the TARDIS. Too many bittersweet memories. He shook his head.

Wilf chuckled to himself. “When Donna first told me about your circumstances I thought she was flashing back. Thumbelina was one of her favorite bedtime stories. I would read it to my Sylvia too.” Wilf had a far away look. “A couple, or in some cases an old woman, is unable to have a child, and so she is given a seed to plant and look after. A flower grows from it and out pops a tiny girl. Thumbelina, as they name her, quickly runs away and there’s other creatures in the story that try to marry her off. She’s saved by a swallow that lets her climb onto his back. They fly away and it’s a happily ever after.”

The Doctor hummed, wondering where Wilf was going with this.

“Suppose you and your Police Box ended up becoming Donna’s swallow.”

The Doctor processed his words, leaning against Wilf’s arm. It definitely wasn’t a bad association. Most of his companions’ families saw him as an abductor rather than a savior. Wilf seemed to be the exception.

The Doctor rubbed his head against the human’s arm. His throat was still too raw to comfortably use his voice, and he was a bit tired of waving around the sonic to get his point across. Wilf misread his body language though.

“Do you want to go back inside?”

The Doctor shook his head, wrapping his small arms around Wilf’s forearm. He was suddenly a little overwhelmed with how kind the elderly human had been. Wilf had been a constant in these monumental surroundings. The Doctor hadn’t noticed how everything had steadily crept up on him. He had thrown his brain into solving the puzzle of regaining his stature instead of maintaining his mental health.

Wilf raised a hand and ever so carefully ran a finger over the Doctor’s back. The Doctor trusted the gentle touch enough to loosen his shoulders.

“Hey now, none of that. Or you’ll get me going too.” Despite the rebuke, the human kept up the consoling caresses.

The tiny little Time Lord seemed to melt into the touch and sigh. He shut his eyes and let his mind go numb. Eventually, he pulled away and gave Wilf’s arm a brief pat. The sunlight was stronger and the Doctor craved more shade.

He walked over to retrieve his coat and clambered onto Wilf’s hand. He refused to do this with anyone else. He usually preferred to climb onto shoulders and cling on like an incredibly wary parrot, or secure himself inside a vest pocket. With Wilf, he allowed the elderly human to cup him between his palms. Wilf would convey him carefully and slowly indoors.

The Doctor had resolved not to run away from Chiswick. Well, not until he was big enough to hop onto his blue swallow, anyway.

The End.


	8. TARDIS Medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten is down for the count and it’s up to Nine and the TARDIS’s evolutionary quirk to help him recover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doctor self-care is my greatest weakness.

* * *

“I’ve brought you tea,” his predecessor told him, perching on the edge of the duvet.

The Doctor exhaled, tired chest heaving slightly. “How’s Donna doing?”

“Asleep. She’s been awake past typical human sleeping hours.” The leather clad Doctor carefully handed over the cup.

“The TARDIS?”

“Healing,” his predecessor told him. “It was only a chemical sample. Bit like plasma donation, except that it’s not that by any stretch. I managed to synthesize a lot of antibodies from her toxins. She’ll be as right as rain in a few days.”

The Doctor gave a contented hum. He finally raised the cup and took a sip.

“Now that we’ve established all of that, how goes the recovery?” The younger Doctor studied him.

“Inflammation’s gone down. Less dizziness and nausea.” The patient seemed to hesitate a moment. “Still a bit foggy.”

The younger Doctor felt his forehead with the back of his hand and moved his hands downward to feel the lymph nodes in his neck. The Doctor shut his eyes and seemed to soak up the attention. The younger Doctor obligingly stroked back the spiky and wayward mop of hair as he completed the examination. It was a funny feeling, taking care of his future self. Of course, he felt the timelines sticking together and sheering at the edges, but the younger Doctor stubbornly held onto them.

“In a few days you’ll be healed enough for light exertion,” the younger Doctor told him. “Luckily for us, evolutionary speaking, the old girl’s mainframe still thinks she’s at the bottom of the ocean. Being behind the times payed off in this instance.”

After a few more sips, the older Doctor made to put the teacup down. The leather clad Doctor took it from him.

“Sleep will make for a quicker convalescence.”

The Doctor sighed and let his eyes drift shut as he settled back against the pillows. The younger Doctor got up and went to go return the cup to the kitchen.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you.”

“Got to put the cup back,” the younger Doctor told him like he had gone a bit daft. He saw the slitted brown eyes watching him from the bed. Then the meaning struck him.

“I’ve got to. You know that.” For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why the other Time Lord would need him. He had synthesized the cure and injected the ill Doctor with it. Unless…

“Gotten used to having another Time Lord around, haven’t you?” The younger Doctor asked.

Their language and their mental abilities spoke clearly of their origins. The agony was still fresh, but they could not deny the stability of each other’s presence.

“I’m not leaving tonight.” The younger Doctor’s reassurance would have to suffice. It seemed to have been the correct thing to say, because his future self’s posture and breathing eased. The other Doctor slipped silently out of the room.

* * *

Earlier

“Stay away from him!” The irate red head had gotten in front of the fallen Time Lord. “I’m warning you.”

“I can help,” the younger Doctor assured her. “Please, I’m a Doctor.”

She had rested her hand protectively over the nape of her Time Lord’s neck and appeared to be checking on his condition while simultaneously warding the stranger off. The ill Time Lord had started slowly nodding.

“Let him, Donna. He’s-he knows what he’s doing.” The Doctor leaned against her and turned his gaze to his predecessor. “It’s-”

He collapsed the rest of the way and the human woman caught him with a shout. The younger Doctor quickly approached and worked on assessing the dying Time Lord. He reeked of a recent detox. Everything about him was so familiar, from his aftershave to his worn hands, uncharacteristic for a Time Lord. It hadn’t been long before he had discerned that this was his future self. He took over diagnosing and nursing his future regeneration.

The older TARDIS had planted the idea in his head that the leftover chemicals from her ancestry would serve as suitable antibodies. It had once kept away predators, and given the right dosage and chemical stability, it could be used to fight off the poison in her pilot’s body.

The human woman, Donna, had kept his future self calm. She had affectionately called him “Spaceman.” The younger Doctor found himself warming to her despite the leaden feeling in his gut at the absence of Rose. He had kept his mouth shut though. He had been busy enough being the chemist and biological engineer, extracting a sample of the TARDIS’s toxins and readying their equivalent for his future regeneration.

As his future self was recovering, the younger Doctor struggled to keep his silence. It was time for him to leave before he started finding answers to his questions. He could give his future self one more night though. The peace of mind granted by having another Time Lord psyche around was a two way street. Perhaps they would stumble across each other again in the future.

For now, he was a Doctor again.

The End.


	9. Playful Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten takes Martha to the beach and nearly crashes a wedding. Again.

* * *

“You’ve never been to a beach before?” The Doctor had given her an utterly perplexed look.

Martha shook her head.

“You live on an island and you still haven’t walked across a beach? Right, well, we’re fixing that.”

“That’s the reason why we’re parked near an ocean, I presume,” Martha said wryly.

“Well yes, but I thought it was new planetary territory for you, not entirely new territory. I’m going to have to teach you how to bodysurf,” he said it like it was an absolute necessity.

Martha just shrugged. She might have swam in the ocean with her Dad when she was very little. She couldn’t recall. She had regularly swam in public pools throughout her life, so swimming wasn’t foreign to her. When they had dressed in the TARDIS’s swimming gear, Martha had just assumed they were trying to blend in. The local bazaar must have been close.

“I thought you had to pick up that extrapolater thing that you mentioned earlier,” Martha reminded him.

“It can wait,” he said firmly. “As expeditionary leader, I say swimming comes first.”

Martha snickered. It was really quite charming when he got into these determined moods to provide her with new experiences. He had dressed down to a shirt and some trunks, blending in with presumably the rest of the beach goers. Martha was in an aqua suit with a crisscrossed back.

When the Doctor had opened the TARDIS doors to the bright sunshine, the first thing Martha experienced was the noise. She heard children playing and the water splashing. She inhaled and clean air seemed to fill her lungs.

“Oh, the air here is nice!” She grinned. The wind blew her hair around as she watched the people amble across the beach. She saw a sort of gathering on the shoreline. “What’s happening over there?”

The Doctor glanced over and seemed to brighten. “A Batoran parenting ceremony! Been years since I attended one of those. It’s like a wedding, except the Batorans promise themselves to each other to raise their offspring. See, someone’s expecting.”

Martha furrowed her brow. “So it’s like a shotgun wedding?”

The Doctor’s face scrunched up with distaste at the phrase. “That’s an archaic way of looking at it. They regard reproduction as something to be cherished, a holy undertaking to further their species.”

Martha tilted her head, considering the solemn chanting.

“Race you to the water!” The Doctor suddenly pelted off towards the crashing surf like a fire had been lit beneath him.

Martha paused only for a moment before she followed at a run. She felt the reason for his haste burning the soles of her feet at the edges of her sandals. They quickly shed their extra layers before diving into the water. Martha yelped as she was submerged in the icy ocean.

“Your body will adapt to it. Just give it a minute,” he reassured her.

The Doctor was already swimming expertly over to her, wriggling through the water like an Olympian. It really wasn’t fair that he was over 900 years old.

“Are you ready to learn how to bodysurf?” He asked her with a grin.

It ended up being more of an art than a science for Martha. She had to closely watch the waves to determine at which point to submerge herself. The Doctor had the advantage of timing himself perfectly to dive just before it crested, and going just deep enough so that he shot forwards without flipping. Martha impacted the ocean floor quite a few times as she was tossed head over heels. It was easy to see why this was considered a dangerous pastime.

The waves were powerful and even the Doctor cautioned her against riding certain ones that he took. Sometimes he shot all the way to the shore. As they waited for new waves, they would chat, bobbing up and down, sometimes chasing the building water if it looked promising.

A particularly rambunctious current started to suck the water away from around them and the Doctor swam quickly to go seek out the apex. Martha let him have the high wave, just watching his technique.

* * *

This was going to be an excellent experience, the Doctor thought, catching the building water at just the right angle and diving underneath. He straightened his body and felt the current snag him. The water felt weightless as he cut through the bubbles and churned up sand. The physics was like being in the Zero Room, except considerably more violent. He inhaled and choked and before he knew it, he was washed ashore.

The bedraggled Time Lord lifted himself up by his elbows as he lay on his front. After he had finished coughing, he became aware of a couple of things. He heard soft chanting from nearby. He realized that he had washed ashore near the holy ceremony. He also became aware that he was feeling rather free and close to the elements. Waves lapped over his lower body and across uncovered skin.

A ceremony attendee’s eyes widened while the rest of the group remained oblivious. It seemed that things had gotten rather...cheeky.

_Hullo!_ The Doctor mouthed cheerily, not wanting to seem like he was intentionally intruding.

He grabbed his trunks that had migrated south to his ankles and dived back into the ocean.

* * *

“You crashed a wedding while in the buff?” Martha asked as they bobbed around in calmer waters. She made an unexpected nasal sound before erupting into giggles.

“Martha Jones, you snorted!”

“I did not!” She splashed him.

The Doctor’s eyes twinkled as he splashed her back. After a few more minutes of childish behavior, the Doctor reflected. “Come to think of it, they weren’t reacting to my nudity more than they were reacting to me suddenly being there. Given everyone’s physiology, I could have washed up in a suit and tie and they still would have been startled.”

Martha laughed some more. She had reached an oddly loopy state from all of the exercise. It wasn’t long before the Doctor declared a break to go rehydrate themselves. They swam back to the beach to collect their gear and visit the shops. They found a vendor that was selling cold globes of moisture encased in a transparent skin. The Doctor taught her the technique of how to break it with her teeth without coating her hand or the ground. The fluid was sweet and salty, apparently containing plenty of electrolytes. Martha found that she would have preferred an ice lolly though, just for the nostalgia of it.

They traversed the coast to the docks to visit the junk shop that they had originally traveled here for. The Doctor perched his glasses on his nose as he bent down to study the merchandise. Martha had to hide her smirk at his dressed down professor-ly appearance.

She linked her arm with his, startling him. “Find that thing you wanted?”

He hummed, making a doubtful noise. “Might have to go somewhere else, actually.”

“Well, I'm glad we came here first, anyway,” Martha said with a grin.

Catching her meaning, the Doctor smiled.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I once body surfed so hard that the ocean tore off my two piece and I washed ashore during a wedding. Definitely something that would happen to the Doctor


	10. Menagerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna gets to see what the Doctor thinks of the animal kingdom. (This is the last installment)

* * *

Donna wasn’t much of a cat person, but it seemed that the Doctor was. This was the most relaxed she had seen him. He was stretched out on a sofa in the lobby with a feline curled up on his chest. They both appeared to be asleep. It was nearly comical, the way the tips of the cat’s tufted ears resembled the Doctor’s wild mop.

Donna hid her smile behind her hand as she looked in on them. The cat stirred in reaction to her scrutiny. It kneaded the Doctor’s suit lightly with its claws. The Doctor didn’t wake. Donna slipped out of the room to go talk with their hosts.

The Doctor had appeared a while later looking drowsy but well rested. Donna had smirked, but revealed nothing beyond asking how he was feeling. He had given an energetic “good!” before they continued on their tour of the planet.

* * *

Donna had thought that he was a cat person, because honestly, it would have explained a lot, until they met a dog-like creature. He had knelt down to greet it. It shoved its snout against the shell of his ear and he dissolved into the most unTime Lord-like giggles. Donna’s mouth dropped open as the thing bowled him over and continued sniffing him. He belted out a laugh and shoved weakly at the creature. It proceeded to take this as a sign of affection and nuzzled him. The Doctor’s face lit up and he appeared to enjoy the playful interaction to the point of obliviousness to his surroundings.

“Earth to Doctor- Well, Earth human to Doctor- You’re blocking the pathway,” Donna pointed out.

Donna felt like a bit of a berk for having to break up the happy moment, but the group trying to get past them did not look friendly. The group of aliens scowled at the startled Time Lord.

“Oh!” He scooted out of the way for the impatient cluster of beings.

Once they had passed, the Doctor turned to her. “Want to go see what that lot is up to?”

“I think we’d better. I know you were making a new friend...” She began regretfully.

“It’s alright. Another time.”

* * *

Donna found out that his fondness was not limited to fuzzy creatures, but he also enjoyed reptiles and insects. When she found him cooing at some giant purple snake thing, her stomach had clenched. She had refrained from making a comment though, noting the way his eyes had twinkled and his voice had risen.

“I think you should get yourself a pet,” Donna had remarked one day.

The Doctor was on his back as he lay on one of those wheel-y things he used to get under low hanging parts of the TARDIS. He scooted himself out as he looked at her like she just suggested he go launch himself into the Time Vortex.

“Look, there’s got to be some trainable long-lived creature that you can pal around with. Not a dog, necessarily, but something fluffy that humans can get along with.”

Honestly, he had looked less alarmed when she had slapped him. At last, he seemed to gather himself enough to answer.

“Time Lords don’t keep pets.” He said it like there was some omnipotent rule book that kept him from doing so.

“So what? You’re good with animals. What’s stopping you?” If this was the only impediment then there was something obviously wrong with his ideology.

“For one, I wouldn’t be able to take care of it.”

Donna scoffed. He took care of everything. The TARDIS, his companions...even complete strangers.

“I’m serious! It would be a constant interruption. All of that feeding and grooming. It would want to play all of the time.” His voice held a strangely wistful note that made Donna want to roll her eyes.

“You’d love that! A playmate with your energy? Next stop, we’re getting you a yappy space dog-alien thing.”

“Donna, I can’t! I really can’t!” He snapped.

“Alright, a big snuggly lizard, whatever you want.” Donna paused as she saw how dark his eyes looked. “This has to do with an experience, doesn’t it? You don’t want to be completely responsible for something.”

Donna had become adept at reading him. She also knew when to push and when to drop the topic. This was close to the “don’t push” category.

“Yes. Since you want to know, yes, I don’t want to be completely responsible for another life form.” It was the most vulnerable thing he could have said and she stopped her uncomfortable inquiries. He didn’t meet her gaze.

“They just...make you seem so happy,” she said quietly. She liked to see him smile easily, allowing his big brain to decompress. His primal instincts made him appear the most comfortable.

He sighed and sat up. “I have you and the TARDIS to keep me company.”

“I know, but is that enough?” Donna said softly. The TARDIS satisfied all of the Doctor’s basic needs and the psychic Time Lord connection. Donna was just another person to talk to.

As if he could sense her thoughts, he gave her a sharp look. “That’s more than enough.”

“But-” Donna shut her mouth when she saw his determined expression.

“Why are we talking about what makes me happy when we should be talking about what you enjoy? Think of something you want to see or experience,” he said simply. “If you’re so determined to meet animals or other life forms we can go see the wild plains of Zubregas and go wildlife spotting. Or check in on my bacterial cultures I’m growing in the TARDIS labs. Just as long as it’s not birds. Those you have to see by yourself.”

Donna furrowed her brow, mystified. “Why not birds?”

He stuck out his lower lip. “They don’t like me.”

When Donna began to laugh at him, he started to recount his experiences with aggressive or territorial birds. The serious atmosphere gradually dissipated. Donna slowly came to realize that the TARDIS and his companions also gave the Doctor joy, just not in an obvious way at times.

Still... Maybe someday.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you’ve enjoyed this experimental collection. Please leave feedback so that it’s less like shouting into the void. XD Thanks for reading along and have a great day!


End file.
